


Liquid Courage

by GoldenVendetta



Category: Final Fantasy: Brave Exvius
Genre: Alleyway, Come Swallowing, Drunk Humor, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Spoilers, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenVendetta/pseuds/GoldenVendetta
Summary: Zile was drunk, and he knew he was drunk. He had to be, because there was no other way to explain how he’d gathered enough guts to wander over to Raegen’s table.





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t have any excuse for this. I liked Zile. Raegen kept giving everyone the cold shoulder. He’s pent up. The two were in a bar. My mind goes places. Don’t hurt me! *cries*
> 
> Takes place during the “Ballad of Grandshelt” event, so some possible spoilers lurk. I did my best with all the characters, but there isn’t a ton of info on everyone. I have to go off what I’m given in-game since internet research gives me little results, and I play Global.

Zile was drunk, and he _knew_ he was drunk. He had to be, because there was no other way to explain how he’d gathered enough guts to wander over to Raegen’s— _Excuse me,_ **_Sir_ ** _Raegen’s—_ table.

 

Though, “table” was putting it nicely. The taproom was furnished with large barrels that served as tables, but there wasn’t any seating. The bombardier had long ago guessed that since this particular tap room catered to the Knights and their ilk, that meant a good deal of men and women in heavy armor and carrying large or sharp weaponry came to drink here. That had to put a lot of stress on furniture. It was probably best if everyone just stood.

 

Sir Raegen regarded Zile over the rim of his tankard in silence. His expression was questioning, lined with the faint possibility of annoyance at having his solitude interrupted.

 

_Ever the ice king._

 

“It’s lonely drinking all by yourself, isn’t it?” Zile flashed a grin and held up his own almost empty tankard. “How about some company?”

 

The reply was immediate and frank. “No thank you.”

 

The knight tipped back his drink, apparently done with the conversation and the bombardier altogether.

 

_Well, damn. That was quick._

 

But Zile refused to give up so easily. His grin turned a little pained. “Aww, c’mon! I still owe you for saving me back there.” He hovered his fingers over Raegen’s arm, the one he knew to be wounded. “Was Sophia able to patch you up? That was a lot of blood…”

 

A hint of derision colored Raegen’s voice. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

 

“Yeah. I guess you’re not a zombie yet.” Zile chuckled. “But I still owe you. Let me buy you another drink.”

 

The blonde knight started to shake his head. “I told you, that isn’t necessary—“

 

“Look, it would make me feel better, okay? I’ve been kicking myself over getting you hurt in the first place. This is the least I can do.”

 

Raegen continued to protest. “Really, it’s fine.” He gestured with the tankard. “I wasn’t planning on drinking any more tonight, so save your money.”

 

“I’d just give in if I were you,” Loren called from across the bar. She nursed her own glass of wine. “Whatever he’s talking about, it’s faster to get it over and done with and move on with life. Trust me, he’s never going to leave you alone until you do.”

 

“It’s a character flaw,” Zile agreed, but he was unapologetic about it. He pulled a couple of coins from his pouch and held them up. “So, what are you drinking?”

 

Raegen looked like he wanted to complain further but was starting to see the futility in it.

 

“Fine,” he relented. “ _One_ drink.” Then he winced as Zile clapped him hard on the shoulder.

 

“That’s the spirit! Gotta live it up when we’ve got the chance!” Raising his voice even louder, he shouted for the proprietress to bring two more refills.

 

***

 

The alley was quiet save for the sounds of heavy breathing and wet suction. The stones were hard and cold under Zile’s knees, but thanks to the Grandshelt maintenance committee, it was blessedly free of trash. His bicorne hat rested beside him since it was quite clear that it wasn’t going to be well behaved as he worked his mouth up and down Raegen’s length.

 

Besides, he enjoyed feeling the knight’s fingers threaded through his hair, not quite pulling his head back and forth but guiding the pace nonetheless.

 

That one final drink had been a little more than Zile could handle, and he’d half fallen over by the time they were finished. Raegen had been inclined to leave him where he was clutching the barrel-table for support, but Loren came to his rescue, as always.

 

“Jackass,” she had sighed at him. Her lovely forehead had been creased by lines from a scowl. “What am I going to do with you? Will you never learn?”

 

“Shhawrry,” Zile had slurred back. “I meshed up.”

 

“Yes,” she agreed. “Again.”

 

“If you’ll excuse me.” Raegen had bowed and seemed intent to extract himself from the situation as fast as possible.

 

But Loren stopped him. “Wait. I need your help dealing with _him_.” She’d indicated the sloshed bombardier.

 

Raegen’s scowl had ended up matching hers. “How is he _my_ problem?”

 

“Because you’re a man. I can’t very well have him draped all over _me_ as I try to help him back to the barracks. Besides,” she had sniffed primly. “He might throw up on me.”

 

“But it’s all right if he throws up on me instead?” Raegen had shaken his head. “Just leave him. I doubt he’d be the first person to pass out in this establishment, and I’m sure he also won’t be the last. Besides, everyone here is in the service of his Majesty. His life won’t be in any danger if you do.”

 

He made to leave again, and again Loren held him back.

 

“The reputation of our military would suffer if we just abandoned him here.”

 

“Maybe you should have thought about that before insisting I accept his offer of another drink.”

 

“I may have made a tactical error of judgement,” the blonde woman conceded. “He didn’t seem quite as drunk as he was. The point remains that, as his comrade, it’s your duty to help if you can.”

 

Raegen’s expression had been cool. “Is this an order from the commander?”

 

Loren had shaken her head. “No. Just the request of one knight to another. I could ask one of the others here, but…” She had looked away. “I know Zile can be...exuberant. I think they’d be less inclined to help out than you are.”

 

“To call him ‘exuberant’ is putting it lightly. He’s a downright handful.”

 

“Shtill here,” Zile had mumbled with a wave but was summarily ignored.

 

“Most of the others treat him like a joke. They see his outward cheeriness and write him off as a complete idiot.”

 

Raegen had glanced over at Zile, still sprawled as he was over the barrel top, then back at Loren. “I can’t imagine what would ever give them that impression.”

 

“Well, they’re wrong.” Loren’s voice had become firm. “Yes, he makes some bad life choices now and again, and he can come off as kind of brash, but he’s a genuine, honest person. And that’s hard to find, especially here where we’re surrounded by the sons and daughters of influential families trying to use the military as a steppingstone for power grabs.”

 

Zile had belched at that point. He hadn’t meant to spoil the moment; Loren _had_ been praising him, after all. But he’d had so much alcohol, and his insides were feeling gassy.

 

Raegen had looked like he’d wanted to refute everything he’d just been told but couldn’t think of a way to do so that wouldn’t come out sounding like, “I don’t care! I don’t wanna do this, and you can’t make me!”

 

Instead, he’d huffed with irritation and yanked Zile into standing. He’d pulled one of the bombardier’s arms around his neck and used one of his own arms around Zile’s waist to support him.

 

“I just need to get him back to our barracks, right?”

 

Loren had nodded. “Yes. Women aren’t allowed there, so me trying to take him by myself still wouldn’t work out. You can dump his sorry rear end on the floor for all I care. Just see to it that he gets back to his room safely.”

 

Zile had blown a raspberry at that. “Rude.”

 

“Shut up,” both Raegen and Loren had told him in unison.

 

“You’re being a horrible representative of our group,” the woman had chastised. “And your impulsive behavior is forcing me to inconvenience Sir Raegen on your behalf.”

 

“I’m doing this for her sake, not yours,” Raegen had added. He’d adjusted his grip on the bombardier, and Zile had felt squeezed.

 

_Even being wounded, damn the man is strong!_

 

He could feel a barely contained strength lurking just under the surface that went beyond mere skill with a sword or a toned body. But maybe he had just been imagining things, or was hyper aware of Raegen because he was drunk and his distorted senses were blowing everything out of proportion.

 

Either way, he’d sagged into the other man’s side, letting his head fall towards the taller knight’s shoulder. This, of course, had bumped his hat into Raegen’s temple and the other knight huffed again and used his hip to half push Zile back upright.

 

“Kindly keep it together, would you?”

 

“I appreciate you doing this.” Loren had then jabbed a slim finger into Zile’s chest so hard he was amazed she didn’t stab through his uniform jacket. “And _you!_ We’re having words when you’re sober!”

 

“Yesh ma’am.”

 

So Raegen had helped him stumble out of the taproom and onto the darkened street. The night air had felt so good on his flushed face. He hadn’t realized how hot he’d been inside. And despite the hurried pace Raegen was setting, it had also felt kind of nice to be pressed so close together and walking along like that. Yes, Raegen had been more dragging Zile than actually _walking_ with him, but still, it was a pleasant change. Raegen never got close to anyone.

 

“You’re being quiet,” the other knight had said at one point. “Too quiet. Are you going to be sick?” The question had been asked with the type of concerned horror one reserves for, “Is it contagious?”

 

Zile would have laughed if he hadn’t thought Raegen might get offended and drop him in the street, Loren be damned.

 

“No. I was...I was jusht thinking.”

 

“Did it hurt?”

 

“We’re kinda the same, me and you.”

 

It was Raegen’s turn to grow quiet. At last he’d said, “You and I have _nothing_ in common.” The words had been said so coldly, Zile swore he could feel an actual chill in the air around them.

 

But he’d pressed on. “No, it’s true. We’re both admired well enough, but we don’t have anybody we can really call a friend here. Though, I guesh we haven’t been doing our besht to encourage people to be our friends, either.” He’d paused, then continued, the alcohol making him brave. “I like you. I know you think I’m doofy, but maybe...well, maybe _we_ could be friends?”

 

Raegen’s handsome jawline had tightened. “I have no desire for friends. They would only be a distraction.”

 

“Aww, c’mon! Everyone needs friends!” When Raegen had remained stubbornly silent, Zile had sighed, blowing a gust of breath that smelled of beer past Raegen’s cheek. “Fine. Shum-one to watch your back, then. A comrade-in-arms whom you can trust. Like you did for me with that monster.”

 

“Is that what this is about? If we lost a member of the unit, the strength of our forces would have been compromised. I didn’t help you because I’m trying to be your friend. I was thinking about the mission, nothing more.”

 

Zile had deflated like a soufflé. His head had fallen towards his chest. “...Oh.”

 

Being drunk was making him more emotional than usual. He’d thought he might cry over hearing that.

 

“However…” Raegen had hesitated then, and as Zile glanced up at him he saw a mild look of confusion pass over the other’s features. “I don’t _dislike_ any of you, either.”

 

Those words had given Zile hope.

 

A crazy idea had struck him then, and it was surely born from his state of inebriation.

 

If he could just do something to convince Raegen that he was sincere about his feelings, maybe his offer of friendship wouldn’t be rebuffed.

 

That’s how he’d suddenly, clumsily pulled the knight into the closest alley. Raegen had probably assumed Zile was about to be sick, so he’d let him do that, but hadn’t been prepared for when the bombardier dropped to his knees in front of him and started working his hands up under his tunic and tried to unfasten his belts.

 

“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing?!”

 

Gloved hands had grabbed his wrists to still them, so Zile had done the next best thing. He had leaned forward and started mouthing the front of Raegen’s crotch through his pants. The material was warm from body heat against his lips.

 

“I can be a great friend to you,” he’d said between mouthfuls of fabric. “Jusht give me the chance. I promish, I won’t let you down.”

 

“Zile, stop. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing or saying—“

 

“I know that you’re hurting.” Zile had leaned his forehead against Raegen’s lower thigh, almost knocking his hat off in the process. “You’re keeping everyone at a distance. I don’t know why. Maybe you have your reasons. But in battle, we’ve gotta be able to shtand together, fight together. Maybe you can do that without bonding with your fellow soldiers but I can’t.” He’d looked up at Raegen, trying to force all of his feelings into his voice no matter how lousy his words were coming out. “I know what I’m doing, and I want to do this for you. Because even if me, and Loren, and Sophia, and everyone else don’t register as a ‘friend’ to you, you can’t keep going on like this. It’s too sad.”

 

And for a moment, Raegen had gone terribly still. The cool, collected facade he displayed to the world had cracked and for an instant, Zile had seen a swirl of emotions there: anger, grief, loneliness, longing...and fear. Then the blonde knight had closed his eyes and swallowed, mastering his emotions once more. He released Zile’s wrists and leaned his back against the building that formed one wall of the alleyway.

 

“Do it.” His voice had been low and strained.

 

Zile tentatively had resumed undoing Raegen’s clothes enough to get inside his pants. “You don’t sound sure about this.”

 

A faint, pained smile answered him. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

 

But Raegen had reached down and pulled Zile’s face forward against himself as soon as the bombardier had his cock freed. He didn’t watch what was being done to him. He kept his eyes closed the whole time, his head tilted back with his face angled up toward the starry sky above. As if this were an act he hated himself for giving in to, but couldn’t help surrendering to at the same time.

 

Zile, for his part, wished he could ease whatever innermost torment was weighing down Raegen’s soul, and it seemed like sucking his nuts off would make the situation worse somehow, not better. Yet he had the knight’s cock in his hand and was bringing it to life under long swipes of his tongue. He didn’t know if or when he’d be granted the opportunity to do this again and he’d be damned if he’d let the opportunity to bond at least a little with Raegen slip away.

 

And that was how he was now currently plunging back and forth on that turgid thickness.

 

Zile wrapped his tongue around and around the shaft in circular motions, concentrating on the underside and the spot just below the flared head. He pressed hard with his lips, covering his teeth to make sure there was no unpleasant scraping. Then he suctioned hard as he pulled back, filling the narrow alley with obscene, wet squeaking sounds.

 

Raegen wasn’t much for making sounds of his own. He kept his noises of pleasure to heavy breathing and the occasional muted grunt. His fingers raked tirelessly through Zile’s hair.

 

Eventually, though, Raegen gasped out, “Oh...I’m close!” Raegen pulled off the glove from his right hand, took hold of his erection, and began to jerk it with obvious intent.

 

Zile sat back on his heels and held onto the sides of the other’s legs for support. He opened his mouth wide. Raegen stroked the head of his cock against the outstretched tongue as he worked his member, saliva adding further lubricant for the motions.

 

“Aahh!”

 

Raegen gripped the bombardier behind the head with his free hand and thrust his cock halfway inside his open mouth with a low cry, his fist around himself preventing it from submerging too deeply and choking the other man as he unleashed a couple hard bursts of hot seed across Zile’s tastebuds.

 

Zile groaned deeply and swallowed the load, sucking and licking the smooth skin clean until, overstimulated, Raegen pushed at his shoulder to get him to let go.

 

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Zile continued to cling to Raegen’s legs, while the other slowly began fixing his clothing back into place.

 

“Erm...I…”

 

“You what?” Raegen asked, working on rebuckling a belt. He shifted his stance a little and was immediately grabbed harder.

 

“Don’t move! Oh, please, _please_ don’t move!” Zile begged. A weak whimper escaped him. “All that head motion wasn’t a great idea I’m finding out. I’m all sorts of dizzy now and I think I m-might…” He gagged.

 

“No, absolutely not! You are _not_ puking on me!” Raegen firmly, but gently, dislodged the other man. “Keep swallowing. Take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through the mouth.”

 

“Tell Loren goodbye for me...”

 

“You’re drunk, not dying!” Raegen snapped. But his hand was on Zile’s shoulder, keeping him from swaying over onto his side.

 

Zile made a frantic gesture. “Save my hat! Ulp!”

 

It took several moments and a few close calls, but Zile did manage to keep the contents of his stomach inside himself. Raegen kept telling him to breathe and think good thoughts while fanning him with his own hat. The circulation of cool night air over the back of his sweaty neck and the soothing, however clipped, words helped.

 

After a while, Raegen asked, “Can you walk? We’re almost back to the barracks. You’ll feel better once you’re lying down.”

 

They resumed the trek in much the same way with Raegen all but carrying him. The night watchman gave them a raised eyebrow at the barrack gate as he let them in but didn’t ask any of the awkward questions burning in his eyes.

 

“My room is down the hall on the left,” Zile directed. “Last door.”

 

He leaned against the wall and handed Raegen his key and waited while the other unlocked the door for him.

 

“You’re back safely. My mission is complete.”

 

Zile was handed back his key. Raegen turned to go.

 

And that probably should have been where the story of this bizarre night ended. But the bombardier found himself calling out after the other knight to stop him.

 

“Wait. Don’t go. Come inside. It’s late. Stay the night.” He pushed the door open wider in invitation.

 

Raegen did stop, but the look he threw over his shoulder was confused and irked. “Thank you for the, er, concern, but my room is literally right across the foyer. Why would I stay the night with you when I can just as easily go there and sleep in my own bed?”

 

“Because I’m drunk and shouldn’t be alone right now. What if I stop breathing in my sleep? You have to wake me up and save me!”

 

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not going to stop breathing in your sleep.”

 

“Maybe, maybe not. I think Sophia said once that it could happen.”

 

Zile had the satisfaction of seeing Raegen pause. A bit of uncertainty crept onto his face. “Sophia said that?”

 

“Yeah. Though, she might have been talking about head wounds and concussions. Anyway, she said if the patient passes out, they can stop breathing. I might do that. Do _you_ want to be one who let someone die on his watch?”

 

Raegen spoke through a clenched jaw. “Fine. I’ll stay.” He didn’t quite stomp into the room but it was close.

 

Zile trailed behind and closed the door.

 

It was quite dark, but there was a window and their eyes soon adjusted.

 

“The bed against the far wall is mine. You can use that bed over there.” He pointed at the second bed.

 

“Your roommate won’t mind?”

 

“What roommate?” Taking a seat on the edge of his own bed, he shrugged off his jacket and began pulling on his boots. “The mucky-mucks keep saying they’re going to partner me up with someone, but it’s been nothing but talk so far. I can’t complain, I guess. I mean, I get this whole room to myself. And…” He faltered. “It’s not like people are avoiding being teamed up with me, right?” He shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m a great partner! Or I would be, if...if I had one.”

 

Raegen removed his coat as well. He took his time before replying. “Loren seemed to have faith in you.”

 

Zile perked up. “You’re right! She’s tough, but she’s great! She really understands the concept of camaraderie. She’s one of the few around here who gets me, you know? I like working with her. And, of course, with you.”

 

“Yes. About that.” Raegen’s eyes glittered in the dark. “What happened in that alleyway—“

 

But Zile held up his hands. “Say no more. I get it. I won’t ever bring it up if you don’t want me to.”

 

The other man relaxed a bit. “Thank you.”

 

The bombardier finished with his boots and reclined on his side. He’d forgotten his hat. He pulled it off and tossed it over onto his coat.

 

“I’m going to level with you Raegen, er, _Sir_ Raegen. I’m not looking to make your life more complicated. I’m not expecting us to become lovers or even occasional fuck-buddies. I told you the truth back there. I like you, and not necessarily in a romantic way, so don’t freak out or anything. I want us to be friends, but if you don’t think that’s possible, then I would at least like to be someone you can rely on. I think that sentiment is shared by more than a few of us. Maybe take some time and consider opening up to us a little. We might surprise you.”

 

Though he was feeling clearer than earlier, a dull headache was starting to form behind Zile’s eyes. He closed them, not wanting to imagine the hangover he was going to have come morning.

 

He could hear the rustle of clothing. No doubt the other was was taking off what he needed to in order to sleep.

 

_Keep your eyes shut. Don’t be a perv, now._

 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little curious what his fellow knight looked like under all that clothing. Raegen was easy on the eyes in general. But since he hadn’t seemed that interested in any sort of follow-up to tonight’s earlier activities, Zile didn’t see the point in tormenting himself by ogling what he couldn’t touch again.

 

After a moment, he heard Raegen settling on the other bed and checked a disappointed sigh. Some part of him had been holding onto a fleeting hope that the man would have come to _his_ bed, despite what Zile knew to be true about him. That just wasn’t in Raegen’s character to do that. As much as he wanted to take their bonding to the next level, Zile could be content with what had already happened. And with the way his headache was increasing, this was for the best, anyway. His throbbing skull was saying he wouldn’t be able to handle any more jostling.

 

 _Liquid courage,_ he thought before dozing off. _Gotta love it._  


**Author's Note:**

> This story wanted to be much longer. Like, go into the next day. But should it? It was mostly just them talking. Nice character development, I guess, but no smut. Or if there would be, it might feel forced. Again, I don’t know how to justify any of this... Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated!


End file.
